STOP It's her turn to go over
by tayrn24
Summary: From the book, the wedding, when Claire passes out, then wakes up laying in Jamie's lap. Imagine that whole scene from Jamie's perspective.


They were making their way down the path.

The men all took turns to slap him, quite forcibly on the shoulders and back.

Making verra rude comments and suggestion about what's to come. A continuation from last night tutorial.

Thank the Lord she had no Gàidhlig.

It dinna matter to him, he could only see her.

This is what true happiness feels like. He almost forgot.

She swayed a little alarmingly; He was standing a pace behind her, but at this he came to stand by her side.

"Lass?" he started to say, but she suddenly collapsed and he lunged, cradling her in his arms.

"The lass is stinking drunk. Finished two whole bottles last night" Murtagh was hovering, disapprovingly, above them, as he sank to the ground with her in his arms.

"Dinna fash, will help wi' the bedding later" said Rupert laughing, showing with his hips what he meant, as if it wasna clear.

"Air d' ais, ana-chrìosdaidh!" he bellowed at him.

"Get gone wi' the lot of ye too" he yelled at the rest of them and their mocking laughing faces.

Dougal stood his ground not moving. The rest obviously mimicking his manner.

"She's **my wife** Dougal I'll see to her" he hissed giving his uncle a look that brooks no opposition. He hadna use this look on Dougal since his return to Leoch, but this time he wasna backing down.

"If ye'r thinking of running before it's legal, lad-" Dougal wasna backing down either.

"Ye'll get ye'r legal stamp, Dougal" he said vexed "But I'm not about to kill her of fright beforehand, by having ye lot circling her like vultures. Get gone I say!"

He would have swung some fists, only his hands were full holding his wife's unconscious form.

 **His wife** , the words made his stomach lurch to his throat and he felt completely hollow inside.

This couldna be really happening.

I fooled them, he thought looking down at her face.

I fooled them all, to have ye lass. **My** sleeping beauty.

Will she wake if he kissed her?

A wetted cloth came suddenly into view. Murtagh waited 'till he took it, then strolled down the path to wait with the others.

He dabbed it on her forehead and face.

His fingers, lightly, touching her skin.

 **Her skin** ….O Lord, he dreamed what it will feel to touch it.

It was so white and smooth. He had never touched such skin.

"Weel, maybe only on a new born bairn" he said, feeling proud at his wife's complexion.

Her hair was pinned up, and he had a sudden longing to release it from its pins and bury his hands in it.

He couldna do so, of course, he berated himself.

Not yet. He smiled, as the expectation of one day doing just that filled him.

Poor thing, he thought, continuing his ministering of her.

She was forced, dragged and badly handled by Dougal and the others, until she knelt in front of him at the altar and spoke her vows.

She dinna want to marry him. Dinna want to marry no one, he told himself, trying not to take it to heart.

He saw all that. He was no fool.

But he yearned for this woman so. That he let it be (all awhile keeping a watchful eye to make sure it wasna going too far).

Just 'till they'll marry, he told his scolding conscience, just 'till they marry.

No man will threaten or scare her again after that!

"It's alright if ye dinna love me still, Sassenach" he whispered in her ear praying her soul could hear him "I will love enough for the two of us".

'I already do' he admitted to himself having no one there to fool.

He craved to kiss her lips again.

To touch her. There was something when they touched.

Her touch would bring his blood to freeze and then a second later to boil and steep.

It was as if her skin brought his, to new alertness, brought him to life without him knowing he was asleep before.

A new sensation he had never known.

He also seemed to run very hot ever since he met her.

From first, when she laid her hands on him to fix his shoulder.

As if by contrast to her always being cold, he mused to himself, remembering her, shivering, violently on their first ride to Leoch together.

His entire body seem to ready himself to keep her warm.

Waiting for the chance to protect, warm and take care of her needs.

Maybe that will be enough; Lord, please, let that be enough for her.

Let **him** be enough for her.

His gaze on her traveled, and he noticed the cut on her wrist.

Maybe that's why she fainted? And not daunting thoughts of marrying him that caused this.

"I dinna ken ye dinna know" he said caressing her curls very softly "I'll ken better of ye, next time".

He will. He has been studying her thoroughly. What she looked when she was happy, sad, annoyed (he saw a lot of that), how she looked when she **tried** to lie, when she was lonely and tried to be strong.

He learned what made her comfortable, what scared her, what she believed at.

Anything he could, so when the time came and she was done wi' the mourning and all concerned realized she was no spy, maybe, he could….?

He couldna even imagine events transpiring the way they did, but he wasna letting it or her slip between his fingers.

She was stirring groaning slightly.

Blinking her golden eyes open.

He couldn't stop his lips from spreading wide.

"That bad was it?" he asked.

Suddenly fearing she will say yes.


End file.
